Thursday Afternoon

What are you afraid of?
She demands
And this scares me, because
She is looking at me like
She really doesn't know
And she's supposed to be able to tell
She should know everything about me
By now
At seventy-five dollars an hour
She should know what I won't even tell myself
Out loud

What are you afraid of?
Being afraid
Nothing to fear
But fear itself
Leaves you afraid of everything else

So where does that leave me?
I ask, and she says
Stuck inside yourself.